Just Gotta Cry
by Black Eyed Demon
Summary: Short one-shot about why Molly, my OC, left for Stanford


It was a simple exorcism, the demon was captured, unconscious in a Devil's Trap. He had gotten Dean and he was in another room. Dad went to get him, leaving me alone to do the exorcism.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,-" I started reading the exorcism but was interrupted by the demon.

"Your guilt envelops you! How many people have you failed to save? How many people died because of you?" screamed the demon," Your mother died, Sammy left, I killed your brother! Deanie is dead. He joined your mom in hell. Even now, they're burning! Your mom, she thinks you hate her, after all, those were the last words you spoke to her!"

The demon was shouting nonsense, I knew that. But that didn't make the pain lessen. In fact, it made it worse, made it seem like the demon was guessing. I stood in front of it, my mouth slightly open, my eyes wide. Dad ran into the room.

"Omnis satanica potestas,omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate, te rogamus, audi nos!" he shouted as the demon screamed in agony.

He looked at my brother, "Dean, you alright?" I crushed a sob and ran to the car.

About ten minutes later, Dean hobbled to the car, supported by Dad. I was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean got into the driver's seat and Dad went to his Jeep. I looked at my brother. He was wearing the I'm-in-pain-but I-won't-show-it expression. Dean was never one to share his thoughts and feelings. Now that Sam's at Stanford, he never does.

We got to the motel that was being called 'home' for the time being. Dad helped Dean inside and started tending to his injuries. I carried our stuff in and stayed on the hotel 'porch'.

After making sure that Dean was OK, Dad came outside and joined me.

"You almost got us all killed with your hesitation. Why did you even listen to that thing? Demons read minds, that's what they do!" his breath reeked of whiskey. Oh, right. November second. "Sam would have dealt with that demon ten times better and faster than you did! He wouldn't have let his emotions get the best of him! You're a disappointment and embarrassment to the whole family!" As he stormed inside I remembered one of the Winchester mottos, "Don't cry, it only shows how weak you are!"

"I'm sorry, Daddy" I whispered, "Sometimes you just gotta cry. Sometimes, you just gotta cry."

An hour later, Dean came outside. He put his arm around me.

"Don't worry about it, Mol," he said, "you know how Dad gets when he's stone-drunk. He didn't mean it."

"No, Dean," I sighed, pushing his hand away, "It's not OK, the demon, it knew about Mom. And, yes, I know that they read minds but... I just can't deal with Dad's self-pitying crap right now."

"Self-pitying crap?" Dean said, defending Dad as usual, "Dad gets mocked by demons all the time too!"

"It's not that!" I cried, losing my patience, "The demon said that you're dead, that you joined Mom in hell, that... that you both hate me! But that's not what bothers me! It mocked me about my last words to Mom."

"Last words to Mom?" Dean asked.

"Yes, remember, that was the day that I broke my arm. I had to stay at the hospital overnight. You and Sammy had some sort of stomach bug, so Mom and Dad had to stay home with you. You got better later, but visiting hours were over. Dean, Mom told me that she couldn't stay at the hospital with me and you know what I said? Do you know what I said Dean?"

He shook his head.

"I said, 'I hate you!' I told her some shit about her not loving me. I kicked her out of the room. I shut the door in her face, saying 'I hate you!' I've regretted that ever since." I was practically screaming now. "Do you know that I thought when Dad told me that Mom was dead? Do you?"

Dean shook his head again.

"I was sad. My heart was broken. Dean, do you know what the second emotion I felt was?"

In response, Dean shook his head yet again.

"Dean, the second emotion I felt was hate. I hated Mom. I hated her for leaving. I hated her for not giving us more time with her. I hated that the last words I said to her were 'I hate you'! Dean, I hate what our lives had become, what Dad became! I miss my father, Dean, I miss my mother."

Dean didn't say anything. He stood next to me, a lone tear falling down his cheek.

"Dean, remember when Sammy left?" I asked. "Dean, remember how Dad reacted?"

Dean nodded, another tear escaping out of his eye.

"Sam got a full ride to Stanford. So did I."

Dean just stared.

"I'm going, Dean. I can't live like this anymore. I'm sorry."

A third tear flowed down Dean's face. He nodded.

"Go," he said, "Tell Sammy that I love him. Tell him to be careful."

The next day, I left for Stanford and appeared on Sam's doorstep.

Four years later, Sam's girlfriend, Jessica, died, throwing Sam and me back into hunting.


End file.
